Dixie Clemets vs. PHDoom

Dixie watched as Doom went flying towards the ropes. The cowgirl grinned, enjoying the feeling of being control of the match. Few things felt better to Dixie then being in the dominant, controlling position in a wrestling match, and it was starting to seem to her that Doom really was all talk, and that her earlier advantage against the blonde was just a fluke.

Dixie planted her feet flat against the canvas, bracing herself for Doom's return to her. She noted the woman's rebound off the ropes, and as soon as Doom came back into her range, up came Dixie's leg. Her foot was aimed straight for the punk's face, the cowgirl trying to nail her dead on with a big boot attack in hopes of putting her right back down onto her back!

Everything was an irritating whirl of noise and motion as Doom ran the ropes and bounced back towards Dixie. The cheers of the crowd, the bright halogen flare of the arena lighting, all of it overwhelmed her senses until that moment that Dixie's boot consumed Doom's entire field of vision. Doom felt the solid patent leather of Dixie's boot run across her face, knocking her straight back to the mat. It was a heavy blow, knocking a trail of spittle out of Doom's mouth, causing her to call out sharply in pain.

As Doom's shoulders hit the mat, she rolled on across them with all of her strength. With every ounce of effort she could muster, Doom tried to redirect the momentum she'd built up in her run against the ropes to roll out of the ring. Lesser wrestlers might have seen this as a retreat. They would have been wrong, for reasons that Doom would come up with later. For now, Doom slid beneath the ring ropes and knelt between the ring and the jeering crowd. Rubbing her sore jaw, Doom tried to get her head on straight again. At the moment, the only thing she knew for sure was that Dixie was going to pay for this ...

The impact of Dixie's boot into Doom's face sent a shudder through the blonde's leg, a shockwave up through her body. It was a sensation she had never gotten tired of, the sensation of knowing she was putting her opponent down and they couldn't do anything about it. The crowd began to roar as the boot connected, the audience pleased with seeing Dixie sending the loud-mouthed punk to the mat. Dixie herself turned away as Doom went down, grinning to the crowd, thrusting a victorious fist up towards them.

Oh yeah. Dixie was completely in charge, and it felt damn good.

After taking a few moments to bask in the adoration of the fans, Dixie turned back towards Doom, just in time to see the woman go rolling out of the ring. She let out an audible tsk and went stomping towards the ropes, running a hand through her hair as she smiled down at Doom, flashing her a wide grin.

"Runnin' away already, girl?" she called out, leaning forward against the ropes. "Come on! I know ya got more fight than that in ya! Get back up into this ring before I have to come out after ya!"

Pacing around outside of the ring, Doom was raging. Here she was, faced with a popular, buxom blond who embodied everything she hated about the AFW, and the woman had the audacity to present her with a real challenge! As she'd tumbled out of the ring to get her bearings, Doom could hear the jeers of the crowd. Which only intensified, as Dixie worked them up with her posturing and bravado.

Feeling herself to be mostly in control of her faculties once again, despite how much her jaw ached, Doom moved back towards the ring. She looked up just in time to see Dixie taunting her, the lights of the arena catching the cowgirl's hair as she ran her fingers through it. Wonderful. Doom was being taunted by a shampoo commercial.

Gritting her teeth, Doom grabbed onto the ring ropes, using them to hoist herself up onto the apron directly in front of Dixie. She could hear the referee counting her out, but paid it no mind. She wasn't going to let Dixie get out of this with an easy count out victory. Doom pulled herself up slowly, methodically, acting far more enfeebled than she actually was. She would slowly pull herself up to ringside and, as long as Dixie didn't move away, she planned to snap forward, grab Dixie by the back of the head, and bounce the dominant wrestler's face against the ropes.

Dixie took a step back as Doom grabbed the ring's ropes, starting to pull herself onto the apron. Her big grin faded, her face growing serious again as she prepared herself for the fight to start back up. She was pleased to see Doom rushing right back into things, and truthfully she was impressed with the woman's tenacity. She was looking forward to continuing this fight, and seeing just how far Doom could go.

Once Doom had pulled herself back onto the apron, Dixie took a step back forward towards her, spreading her own arms wide, as if mimicking her scantily-clad opponent's pose from earlier in the match. She was feeling one hundred percent confident with herself, and figured she could handle anything Doom might try to throw at her from that position.

But then Doom's arms lashed out, snagging her by the back of her head. Before the cowgirl had any time to react, she felt herself being pulled forward, straight into the ropes. Her face was dragged right into them, and then a moment later the Texan felt herself bouncing backwards. She staggered back one, then two steps, before falling back towards the mat, landing on her side as she grabbed at her face. She was caught completely off-guard again, and inwardly she was cursing herself for underestimating the punk again.

Doom felt an overwhelming satisfaction, with the sensation of Dixie's face snapping back from the ropes. Doom held onto the ropes a moment, grinning with grim satisfaction as she heard Dixie collide with the mat. When she'd been stumbling around the outside of the ring, Doom was beginning to feel the worrying beginnings of respect for her foe. Dixie had her dead to rights, but as always, Doom persevered.

Looking into the ring, Doom saw Dixie stumble backward, then fall to the mat. She grinned, hoping that the audience which had jeered her just moments ago was appreciating the resiliency of Doom. Still, she knew she had to press this advantage. She knew she had to do something entirely unexpected, here. Grasping the ropes tightly in both hands, Doom shifted her weight downward, pulling back on the ropes for utmost tension, Doom lifted off with her legs, springboarding herself over the top rope to, she hoped, launch herself directly onto Dixie's prone body for a diving splash.

Dixie clutched at her face, letting out a groan as she lied there upon the canvas. She didn't really hurt from that attack. Her face stung, but it didn't really hurt. It was more the shock of getting caught like that and sent to the mat that had gotten to Dixie. She really needed to stop lowering her guard like that. Every time she tried to give Doom an inch, the punk ended up taking a mile.

No more Miss Nice Texan, Dixie decided. It was time to get serious and stay serious.

Lowering her hands from her face, Dixie rolled onto her back. She looked up, about to sit up and start back up to her feet, but as she glanced upwards she noticed a dark shadow approaching her, framed by the bright lights hanging from the arena's ceiling. She had time to blink once, then the realization hit her. Shit, she thought, right before Doom's body came crashing down onto her own.

The cowgirl's entire body shuddered and jerked as Doom dropped onto her, the blonde's arms and legs flying upwards before dropping back down, Dixie lying there under the weight of Doom. She groaned again, trapped for the moment underneath the woman. Enough air had been forced out of her from the splash that she was going to need a moment before she tried to throw Doom off, but by this point she had learned that a brief moment was all that Doom needed to turn things back around on her.

When Doom came down on Dixie, she came down even harder than she had meant to. She wasn't used to that sort of high flying maneuver, but the tenacious cowgirl was forcing Doom to pull out any and all stops in this match. Really, Dixie had been doing far better than Doom gave her credit for, before the match began. For all of the things that Doom assumed the buxom, fit cowgirl was, she was also incredibly competent in the ring.

As she lifted herself off of Dixie, Doom resolved that her opponent's competence was for the best. Better to prove herself against a worthy foe, than any of the little weaklings she knew filled out the AFW locker room. Resting on her knees for a moment, catching her breath, Doom realized she was favouring her rib cage, massaging her side with her left hand. Sneering in anger at this hint of weakness, Doom redoubled her efforts to punish Dixie.

"What was that name again?" she snapped, leaning towards her foe. With that, Doom brought a fist down toward Dixie's midsection. She leaned on her off hand, hoping a firmer base would help her get leverage for a stronger hit while she continued to berate her opponent. "Did you want to tell me now? Did you?" As long as she could get away with it, Doom would attempt to drive her fist into Dixie's belly, while continuing to dress her down, verbally. Doom had long since moved past wanting to physically dominate her opponent, and now wanted to force a psychological component into the match.

Dixie stirred slightly, as Doom came leaning in towards her, taunting her by asking about her name again. She lifted her head, taking a deep breath as she glared towards the punk. "You heard my name, loud and clear already," she barked back at Doom, but before she could say another word, down came her rival's fist, driving into her midsection like a jackhammer pounding through asphalt. The first punch forced most of the air out of Dixie's lungs. Then came the second first, forcing out what little was left after the first. Dixie jerked with each of the two punches, trying to fight back, trying to will herself to get up and stop Doom from hammering away at her. The problem was, Doom seemed to be even stronger then she looked, and with the woman pounding away like that on her bare, exposed belly, she couldn't exactly find the strength to get back up.

The buxom blonde grit her teeth between blows, deciding she would have to weather the storm. She flexed her body, trying to harden that midsection, hoping she could withstand another few punches, at least until she could find a chance to fight back against Doom.

As punch after punch kept coming down on Dixie's obnoxiously perfect midsection, Doom came closer and closer to realizing that she was in the midst of a tantrum. Dixie's response to her taunting had gotten under Doom's skin, as much as she hated to accept that, and pummeling at her like a brute was Doom's only response to it.

Well, no more, she decided. PHDoom was not a brute. Doom was educated. Much moreso than some "wrasslin" redneck cowgirl who's body, as powerful as it was, seemed built more for show than power. Besides, from this awkward position, Doom was putting more strain on her own shoulders, driving a fist down from a horizontal base, than she absolutely had to. It was time to change tracks, now, that much was clear.

Letting up on Dixie's battered midsection, Doom pressed down from her hands and knees so that she could quickly kip up to a standing position. Taking in a breath, Doom let out an aggressive shout to the audience, an outlet for her excess nerves. She paced in a tight circle, staring down at Dixie. "Get up," she shouted, sharply. "Get up so I can put you down again!" As she shouted, Doom planted her feet, wanting to give the impression she was as still as strong now as she had been walking into this match, tonight.